


Plato's Cave

by Empress Wu (Asheru)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-29
Updated: 2003-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asheru/pseuds/Empress%20Wu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando and Viggo share a moment on a moonlit beach</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plato's Cave

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an article on the video artist, Bill Viola, and written for [mirabile_dictu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira), who wanted a beach scene.

From a distance, Viggo appears to be asleep, lying on his back on a rocky outcrop. Orlando stalks carefully towards him, bare feet sinking into cooling sand. Behind him, someone laughs, the sound carrying on the wind like sparks from a bonfire. As he draws nearer, the outline of Viggo's body resolves, small flickers of moonlight confirming the shape of a foot, the curve of a shoulder. Even in abstract, Viggo's body is familiar to him, recognisable by the barest line and shadow. If Viggo is aware of him, he does not show it.

Orlando picks his way across pebbles, tender insteps curling over jagged edges. He stumbles once, with a dismayed hiss. Above him Viggo chuckles, a soft low sound, and rolls over, reaching down to offer a hand. Orlando scowls at him and pulls himself up, fingers scrabbling against the rock. As he reaches the top, Viggo stands up, waving to him to follow. Orlando dutifully gets to his feet.

"What?" says Orlando, wishing that he'd brought his shoes, or that his feet were as uncomplaining as Viggo's.

"Over here," Viggo replies, pointing ahead. Orlando stops behind him and sees a deep pool, left in the rock by the retreating sea. The full moon is perfectly framed in the centre, a silver shield surrounded by dark water.

"The moon, yeah," says Orlando, and instantly wants to kick himself. Of course it's the moon, idiot. He peers closer at it, then catches sight of their reflections, shimmering across the water in the night breeze. Viggo's smile wavers, sharpens.

"This is how we first saw ourselves," says Viggo.

Orlando looks down, watching Viggo's lips move, and tries to decipher their meaning.

"Before painting, or burnished metal, or glass, or mirrors," Viggo murmurs, tilting his head to one side. "Before photographs, or films."

Orlando nods, his thoughts blurring.

"An imperfect reflection of reality," Viggo whispers, and in the rippling water it almost seems that their hands touch.


End file.
